


One More Life

by Brumeier



Series: Happy Again [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Celebrities, College, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gay Rights, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: It's been 15 years since John said goodbye to Rodney so he could fly for the Air Force. While he's walking down memory lane, he gets an unexpected shock when he finds out what Rodney has been up to without him. And how much he wants a second chance.(Please be advised that real-life timelines have been altered. Those are not errors.)





	One More Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Whatif_AU Challenge: Characters as Celebrities
> 
> Special thanks to SherlockianSyndromes for the hand-holding, encouragement, and quickie beta! Love you!

_Do you remember when we were hungry_  
_Do you remember when we were cold_  
_Do you remember when we were happy_  
_In a way, no one outside_  
_Could ever know_

_I wish I had one more life…_  
(Everclear)

**Somewhere, USA: 2005**

John stood on the sidewalk for a long, long time, staring at the house across the street. It had been nearly fifteen years since he’d last seen it but it looked almost exactly the same. There was new vinyl siding, and some of the bushes had been taken out, but the basement apartment still had the green door and tiny windows. If it was still an apartment.

One of the windows had a rainbow flag sticker on it.

_“Don’t go to the Academy.”_

_John tensed up, and Rodney carefully shifted so they were face to face._

_“I know we talked about this, and agreed never to bring it up again, but…you don’t have to go.”_

_“Yes, I do.” John rested his forehead against Rodney’s. “You know I do.”_

_“I hate you,” Rodney said with a sigh._

“It doesn’t look like much,” Nancy said after a while. John had almost forgotten she was there.

“It wasn’t.”

Just one mid-sized room and a closet for a bathroom, but to John it had been a paradise. The one place in all the world where he could be himself.

“Do you want to see if we can get in?”

“No. It won’t be the same.”

It hurt more than John thought it would, but there was no going back. No recapturing the warm glow of the past. He’d made his choice, right or wrong, and he’d have to live with it.

“There used to be this great coffee shop just up the street,” he said. “You wanna see if it’s still there?”

“Sure.” Nancy tucked her arm through John’s and together they walked up the sidewalk. His limp was barely noticeable now, the pain nearly gone. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Can’t guarantee an answer, but shoot.”

“Did you love him?”

John didn’t answer right away, giving the matter some thought. It had been a long time ago; he’d just barely been in his twenties. Being with Rodney had been dangerous and exciting, had firmly established for John that he was in fact gay and had a greater appreciation for the flat planes and angles of a man over the soft curves of a woman.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “We were both so young, and I’d never been in an actual relationship before that. But yeah. I think maybe I was.”

It had been Nancy’s idea to revisit his old college stomping grounds. She was fascinated by the John she never knew, or so she said. They’d met while John was already serving in the Air Force, after he’d already suffered the loss of some of his friends in Afghanistan. She was his best friend.

The irony was John now having the freedom to live his life openly in a way he couldn’t when he was twenty, but not having anyone to share it with. Not having Rodney.

“If you knew then what you know now, would you make the same choice?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t know,” John said again. That time he was sure he was lying.

*o*o*o*

John and Nancy had adjoining hotel rooms, and he was more than ready to stay in for the night with his e-reader and his memories. He wasn’t expecting Nancy to come bursting through their shared door.

“You need to come with me right now,” she said, tugging on his arm.

“What? Why? What happened?”

“You have to see this!”

Nancy dragged him next door to her room and pushed him down on the bed. Her television was on, playing a commercial for maxi pads.

“You wanted to show me wings?”

“Shut up, idiot. Your man, his name is Rodney McKay, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You won’t believe this.” 

Nancy sat down next to him, elbows on her knees. John waited, having no idea what to expect, and then the commercials ended, and a woman appeared with a picture of Rodney behind her.

“Wow,” John breathed. Rodney looked so different. He wasn’t the thin, lithe boy John had known. He’d filled out, gotten broader in the shoulders, but John had no trouble recognizing him.

“He’s handsome,” Nancy said.

_Tonight, I’m talking with Dr. Rodney McKay, known by many as the Most Outspoken Man in America. He’s an astrophysicist, an engineer, and the man who almost single-handedly changed the face of America for the queer community._

“Did you know he was famous?”

John shook his head, dumbfounded. He and Rodney hadn’t kept in touch after John left for the Academy. Too chancy, or so he’d told himself at the time. 

A quick montage followed, giving some background on Rodney’s college career, and how he almost accidentally got pulled into the Gay Rights movement. But once he committed himself, he really put all of is energy into it. Just like he always did.

And then Rodney himself was on screen and John found himself unexpectedly near tears. Nancy reached over and held his hand.

_Dr. McKay, you’ve been a powerful force in this country for gay rights. As a result, you’ve been threatened, ridiculed, and even put in the hospital. Can you tell us what motivates you to keep pushing forward?_

Rodney, who’d always dressed so casually, was resplendent in a tailored suit. _The more someone tells me I can’t do something, the more I want to do it. And I haven’t been asking for anything unreasonable. Basic human rights, that’s all I ever wanted._

“His voice is deeper,” John said.

_And the man who sparked this drive? What can you tell me about him?_

_Why do you people always need more?_ Rodney’s mouth twisted down on one side. John had almost forgotten that. _Like the fight for gay rights isn’t important enough on its own, you always want some personal angle._

The interviewer didn’t seem at all put off by his attitude. _I agree that rights for all people are important, regardless of the reason. But you’ve been criticized in the past for being clinical in your approach. You mentioned, at a rally in 1997, that you had someone in your life that made the fight all the more important. Why are you afraid to talk about that now?_

“She’s good,” Nancy said. “Putting him on the defensive.”

John just nodded. He wondered who the man was. Had Rodney gotten married? Was he in a committed relationship? He hoped Rodney had happiness in his life. He deserved it.

_If you think you can trick me into getting angry and spilling my guts, you don’t know me very well._

_Aren’t you the one who’s always saying how important it is to the queer community to share our experiences?_

Rodney’s scowl deepened, but John could see when he gave in. _He was someone I knew a long time ago. He had to choose between serving in the military, which was his lifelong dream, and staying with me. The laws at that time made it impossible for him to do both._

“Is he talking about _you_?” Nancy squeezed John’s hand.

John felt like he’d been sucker-punched. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. 

_Straight men were able to serve and be open about their loved ones waiting for them back home. He couldn’t do the same. If anyone found out he was gay he could’ve faced jail time, violence from the men he served with…they’d have taken everything away from him. And still he wanted to serve his country._

_Is that what led you to found Proudly Served?_

John missed the next little bit of the interview because of the rushing in his ears. Rodney founded Proudly Served? How did he not know that? How had he never heard or seen Rodney’s name associated with an organization he’d had direct contact with himself?

 _…treatment for mental health_ , Rodney was saying on the television. _The VA does it’s best with what it has, don’t get me wrong, but they’re overwhelmed. Gay servicemen and women, trans servicemen and women, they face additional challenges the VA isn’t equipped to deal with._

The interviewer nodded. _EDR, the organization of which Proudly Served is an offshoot, has had a significant impact on gay rights in this country. And yet you largely keep yourself separate from it though you’re one of the co-founders. Why is that?_

_I created Every Dream Realized with Daniel Jackson to give the gay community a voice, separate from activities I was personally taking part in. I know what people say about me. Rodney McKay and his big gay mouth. I know a lot of people hate me. And I didn’t want that associated with EDR, which has a staff of volunteers far more patient and diplomatic than I could ever be. I tend to rub people the wrong way._

“Has he always been that self-deprecating?” Nancy asked.

“He was always most honest about himself,” John replied. 

But it wasn’t honesty, not really. It was Rodney’s way of reinforcing the things his parents had told him. Things his teachers had told him. It was a way for Rodney to put distance between himself and people who might hurt him. John hadn’t necessarily known that at the time, but he’d had a lot of time to think about Rodney in the last fifteen years.

He’d been one of the people that hurt Rodney, though that had never been his intention.

_EDR was instrumental in getting Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell repealed in 1999, as well as the legalization of gay marriage just three years ago. Why do you continue organizing rallies?_

_Anyone who thinks the fight is over is an idiot_ , Rodney replied. _We can’t afford to get complacent. Not until conversion therapy has been banned. Not until violence against the queer and trans communities has stopped. Not until all people have the same rights and privileges as the cis white males have enjoyed since the dawn of time. Gay, straight, white, black – we’re all just people, and we all deserve to be treated equally._

“Wow,” Nancy said. “John, he’s amazing.”

All John could do was nod. Rodney had always been amazing. And John had still walked away.

*o*o*o*

John slept in late the next morning. Nancy left a note on the connecting door saying she’d gone to breakfast and then to take a walk around town.

It had been a late night. John had gone online to read about Rodney’s life, looking for more detail than had been offered in the interview. There were countless pictures of Rodney on stage at rallies, award ceremonies, political conventions, and one stomach churning picture of Rodney in the hospital after he’d been almost beaten to death by a group of fraternity brothers at a Pride March.

John had been in Afghanistan dropping bombs and losing his friends and pretending he wasn’t the least bit attracted to his friend Dutch while Rodney had gotten two PhDs and nearly died while he focused his not-inconsiderable intellect toward changing laws and public perceptions for a huge segment of the population. They’d both been at war, just different ones.

 _I want my cake and I want to eat it, too!_ Rodney shouted in the dark, grainy, shaky video footage from the 1997 rally mentioned during the interview. _I want the man I love to not have to choose between me and living out his fucking life’s dream! I want to be able to tie a fucking yellow ribbon around my fucking old oak tree and not have to lie about why it’s there, or who it’s for! I deserve to be able to say ‘I love this man’ and not have anyone question me or punish me or treat me like less than! Gay rights are human rights!_

If someone had an argument for the sanctity of straight marriage, Rodney would fire back with statistics on divorce and domestic violence. If someone came at him with passages from the Bible condemning homosexuality, Rodney would produce others that said the opposite. The Queer and Trans communities, he would say, deserved the same right to fuck things up as everyone else did.

Rodney McKay was a goddamned hero.

When John finally got up, he took a long shower, did his leg exercises, and ordered up room service. He’d felt off-center since separating from the Air Force, since Dutch died, and it was even worse now knowing what Rodney had been up to. John didn’t know what he was supposed to do next.

While he waited on Nancy, he opened up the copy of Rodney’s book, _Queer Cake_ , that he’d downloaded the night before. Rodney had also written a book about wormholes, but John didn’t think he’d find that one nearly as stimulating. He remembered Rodney working so hard on his master’s thesis back in that basement apartment, remembered how damn smart Rodney was, how focused.

John hadn’t been able to get past the dedication page the night before, not without feeling like he was going to break down in a horribly embarrassing way. 

_For J, and eight days of mac-n-cheese._

They hadn’t had much money between them in the old days. John’s father was paying his tuition, but that was all he’d agreed to pay for when his son chose not to attend Yale. John had been working in addition to attending classes, which mostly helped cover the cost of books. He and Rodney had existed almost solely on macaroni and cheese back them.

John didn’t know how to feel, maybe because he was feeling everything. Had Rodney really done all the amazing things he did because of how things ended between them? That seemed incredibly egotistical on John’s part. Or was he being used as some sort of personal figurehead? Fifteen years was a long time. John couldn’t even be sure he wasn’t just amplifying the echoes of long-passed feelings himself. 

By the time Nancy got back, John was well into chapter two of Rodney’s book and the nostalgia for that snarky voice was so, so strong.

“Hey. Whatcha reading?” Nancy asked, dropping down next to John on the bed.

“Nothing.” John tossed his e-reader face down on the bed.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “You still haven’t finished that boring Russian novel?”

“It’s not boring.”

“Sure. That’s why it’s taking you so long to finish it. Because it’s so stimulating.”

“How was your walk?” John asked, changing the subject.

“Nice. This is a really sweet little college town. Much nicer than mine.” Nancy kicked off her shoes and curled her legs up on the bed. “I thought we could go over to the campus today. You can show me where you got your dubious education.”

John was up for that. He had fond memories of his time there, and not all of them revolved around Rodney McKay.

“Do you believe in fate?” Nancy asked.

“No. Why?”

“What do you mean, no?” Nancy poked him in the stomach. “Of course you do!”

It was John’s turn to roll his eyes. “Why would I?”

“Because it was fate that brought us together!”

“It was food poisoning,” John reminded her.

They’d met when they were both feeling pretty low and looking even worse. Once you’d spent the night puking next to someone, John supposed it was natural to feel a certain kinship. If John had been straight it might’ve ended up being one of those romcom moments. 

“Come on, buzzkill. It’s too nice a day to spend inside.”

John let Nancy pull him off the bed. It would be good to get out of his own head for a little while, stop obsessing about Rodney. No sense thinking about something he couldn’t have.

*o*o*o*

By the time they’d hit most of the buildings on campus, and John had surprised himself with the amount of funny and embarrassing stories he remembered, Nancy was wearing an alumni t-shirt she’d bought at the campus store – with one still in the bag for John – and had a Fighting Seraphim keychain on her keyring.

“You’re ridiculous,” John said, and slung an arm over her shoulders. 

He was glad Nancy had insisted on the trip. He was starting to think that looking back would help him move forward. John was remembering the fun he had on campus, how much he’d enjoyed the challenge of the upper level math courses. He had his master’s degree – maybe it was time to find a job where he could use it.

“What’s that building over there?” Nancy asked, pointing.

“The O.P. They built it my junior year, so it was the newest building on campus back then. Fine arts building.” He couldn’t remember the actual name of it, because no-one had ever called it anything but the O.P.

John thought maybe he’d gone there once or twice, to see one of the theater productions. Between classes and work and ROTC he’d barely had time for extras, even though one of his friends had been a featured actress in the theater department.

As they got closer, John could see a big banner hanging over the name of the building and a lot of people milling around outside.

“They must have a show this weekend,” he said. College was still in session for another couple weeks or so, students frantically finishing papers and projects and taking finals. 

“Let’s take a look,” Nancy said, and her tone was so innocent that John knew she was anything but. 

He gave her a narrow-eyed look. “What are you up to?”

“Fate,” she replied with a wink.

 _Never Stop: Our Rights and Responsibility_ , the banner said in giant letters. _Hosted by alumni Dr. Rodney McKay. 2pm, free admission._

John froze in place, his brain momentarily short-circuiting. Rodney was on campus? Today? Everyone gathered outside started moving inside at the same time the big campus clock started chiming two o’clock, and John realized how neatly Nancy had arranged things.

“I saw the flyer when I took my walk this morning,” Nancy admitted. She put her hand on John’s back. “We don’t have to go in. Not if you don’t want to. But you’re both here at the same time, John. You might not believe in fate, but I do.”

Did he want to go in? He did. He really did. Seeing Rodney again, in the flesh instead of on a screen, would be amazing. It wasn’t like Rodney would even know he was there. John could listen to him give a talk, realize they led two completely different lives now, and make peace with the past.

“Let’s go.”

*o*o*o*

“Do you know how many idiots tell me I’ve gotten what I wanted, and I can stop fighting all the time?” Rodney asked, leaning against the podium. “We all know how easily rights can be stripped away. It’s our responsibility to make sure that doesn’t happen. There’s no going backward, not now, not when we’ve come so far.”

John had made a terrible mistake. Seeing Rodney in person, hearing his voice, wasn’t helping him get over the feelings that had been bubbling up ever since he’d come back. Just the opposite, in fact. John was remembering what it felt like to have that mouth on his, those arms wrapped around him. God, he missed being with Rodney so much.

Even from his seat at the very back of the theater John could see how good Rodney looked. Older, more solid than he’d been in college. His hair was darker, and there was less of it, but he was still beautiful. He was wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with the _Wormhole X-Treme!_ logo.

And he had bodyguards now, John noted. They were very subtly positioned on either end of the stage, dressed casually, but it didn’t take ex-military to recognize what their role was. One was a mountain of man with long dreadlocks tied back, the other a petite woman with a steely gaze.

“There is still so much resistance to the Queer community. What are people afraid of? That you can catch gay like the flu? That the gay mafia is going to take over the country?”

The crowd cheered and hooted.

“In 1482, Richard Puller von Hohenburg was burned alive at the stake along with the man he was reputed to have had a sexual relationship with. Oscar Wilde was imprisoned and vilified for sodomy in 1895. Homosexuality was considered a mental illness in the US until 1986 and wasn’t decriminalized in all fifty states until 2001. We’ve come a long way.”

More applause, but Rodney held up his hand and glared at his audience.

“And just yesterday a black trans woman was raped and murdered in a small town just like this one. Why? Because she’d used a woman’s restroom. However far we’ve come, we still have a long, long way to go.” Rodney jabbed a finger at the crowd. “It’s our responsibility to step forward and speak out. For women, for men, for children, for people of every color and sexual identity and sexual orientation. Until we all have equality, none of us do.”

“Wow,” Nancy said. “He’s hardcore.”

John nodded. The Rodney he’d known couldn’t have cared less about what was going on in the world around him. He’d been totally focused on his studies, on his plans for his future. On John.

A question and answer session followed, and a lot of the students wanted to know how they could get involved with EDR, or how they could set up groups like that in their own hometowns. Many of them shared personal stories of injustice, or moments when complete strangers came to their defense.

“Are you single?” someone shouted out.

“Yes. Next question.”

Without any conscious thought at all, John found himself on his feet. “I have a question,” he said, loud enough to be heard from the back.

“Well, get on with it. I don’t have all…”

John could see when Rodney recognized him; his mouth hung open and his face flushed red. 

“Is it too late?” John asked, his heart in his throat. “To say I’m sorry?”

Everyone was turning in their seats to stare, but John only had eyes for Rodney.

“I guess that depends,” Rodney said, after clearing his throat a couple of times. “Uh, what are you sorry for?”

“Leaving, and not keeping in touch with you.” John rubbed absently at his chest, which was feeling as tight as his throat. “Never thanking you for giving me a safe space. Never…never telling you how I really felt.”

Rodney’s hands were curled tightly around the edges of the podium. “Tell me now.”

Nancy pushed against John’s hip. “Go down there, dummy!” she hissed at him.

John apologetically brushed past the other people in his row to get to the aisle. He made his way to the stage, watching as Rodney waved off his security detail. He was sure he was going to have a heart attack before he made it there. He stopped when he got to the front row, head tipped back a little to look up at Rodney.

“Hey,” John said.

Rodney hopped off the stage and stumbled. John reached out and grabbed hold of his arm to steady him, and then found he couldn’t let go. 

“Tell me,” Rodney repeated. He looked…Scared? Nervous? John could relate.

“Before I left, before the Academy. I was too afraid to tell you...I loved you. That I always would.” A weight John didn’t even realize he was carrying lifted off his shoulders, and he let out a shuddering breath. “I should have told you.”

“Yes,” Rodney agreed. His eyes were bright, and he swiped at them almost angrily with the back of his hand. “You should have.”

“Kiss him!” someone shouted, which received a healthy amount of applause.

Rodney took a step back. “It’s been a long time.”

“You really single?” John asked. He curled his fingers more tightly around Rodney’s arm, not ready to let him go.

Rodney nodded.

“It must be fate.” John stepped in and kissed him, just a chaste press of lips. The crowd went wild.

In the next moment Rodney had John in a bear hug and John tucked his face against Rodney’s neck to hide his own tears.

“You’re an asshole,” Rodney said in John’s ear. His voice was thick with emotion.

“And you’re gay Superman,” John replied wetly. 

They laughed, and then Rodney was kissing him and there was nothing chaste about it.

“We have a lot to catch up on, but I have to finish this thing first.” Rodney gestured at the podium. “Would you mind? I mean, is it okay if I –”

“I have nothing to hide,” John assured him. 

He hastily swabbed at his face with the hem of his shirt and followed Rodney back on stage.

“So, that pretty much concludes my talk,” Rodney said, holding John’s hand. “Before I go, I’d like to introduce the man that made fighting for gay rights a cause I needed to be involved with. His name is John, and I’ve been madly in love with him for seventeen years.”

The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening. It was one hell of a coming out party.

*o*o*o*

The basement apartment was small and cramped and smelled faintly of fabric softener. But the furniture was high quality, the tiny kitchen well appointed, and the closet-sized bathroom had been enlarged. A fold-down bed had been added to make better use of the space.

“I can’t believe you bought the whole building,” John said. “Just for the basement?”

“Best times of my life down here,” Rodney said.

They were practically sitting on top of each other on the couch. John was on the dark side of thirty-five, but at the moment he felt like he was twenty years old again. He kissed Rodney, just because he could. It had been a long time since he’d felt so good.

It had been a long time since he’d felt so much like himself.

“What happens now?” Rodney asked.

John shrugged. “I have no idea. Start my life over, I guess. Maybe find a good cause that could use my math skills.” He waggled his eyebrows at Rodney.

“I’m being serious here, flyboy. I have a very busy schedule, and I’m on the road a lot, and –”

John silenced him with another kiss. “I’ll go wherever you go. I’ve spent enough years without you. I’m done with that.”

Rodney’s expression softened. “The Air Force really turned you into a sap.”

“You know how it is when they let gays in the military. Feelings all over the place.”

Rodney huffed out a laugh. “I really missed you, John.”

John slid his hand under Rodney’s t-shirt. “Show me.”

Rodney was right. John _could_ have his cake and eat it too.

 _I don't want to be wasted_  
_I don't want to live inside this daydream anymore_  
_I just want to be happy again_  
(Everclear)

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** Title and lyrics from the song [Otis Redding by Everclear](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUjZVrkgN5Q). 
> 
> When I was contemplating this month’s AU challenge, I thought of the fic I had written, Here We Go. I’d always wanted to write a follow-up for it, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. The mental framework was already there. And it also seemed a good fit for Pride Week (shout-out for Ace Pride!).
> 
> Hopefully Rodney doesn’t seem too over-the-top here. I figure, with his ability to multi-task and his laser focus, he’d be able to get his multiple PhDs and also speed up the timeline for LGBTQA rights. Because he’s Rodney! And he can do anything!


End file.
